My Favorite Things
by TheWingedOne
Summary: There were so many questions she could have asked him. But... maybe she could still ask him those questions... because, after all... there's this little thing called 'hope'... Read AN, please.
1. Golden Sunflowers

**I do not own How To Train Your Dragon or the song My Favorite Things, however, I do own the lyrics that I made up. ;)**

**In this, Hiccup, Stoick, and a bunch of other people went on a fishing trip around month ago, and when they were extremely late, searchers went out on dragons and searched for them... to find seven shipwrecks in one of the most thick-misted places there is around Berk. You'd assume the worst, too...**

**It's a sort of drabble.**

**Anyways, I learned how to play this song on the piano/violin, and this idea (and the song) were stuck in my head. I have a lot of unborn ideas. I'm just afraid of not finishing them. But this was short enough... eh. So I revised the lyrics a little *cough_lot_cough* and this came to be.  
**

**Please tell me if you would like me to continue this... if I should, it should be just one more chapter... we'll see...**

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She simply sat there, knees to her chest. She simply sat there, on the stone that she had sat on in spiteful hate, waiting for Hiccup, not so long ago. She simply sat there, by the pool where Toothless had been not so long ago, in the place where he had played with his dead rider ever so recently.

_"Raindrops on roses and glass when it glistens..."_

Glass. Hiccup had a glass window in his room. She had watched it last night, sitting on his bed next to Toothless... just watched it... and she also just watched the moon that caused the glass to glisten and glow.

And...

Roses...

Although it was that rare time of year where it didn't snow as much as usual, so that the strong grass of Berk was showing, other plants- the weaker ones, that is- were very rare. But then, how did this rose, right here at her feet... how did it grow?

_"Bright copper helmets and warm woolen mittens..."_

She had no idea that Hiccup liked mittens. She had been scavenging in his room relentlessly for hours not so long ago, just in case someone decided to throw his things away, and found a small box of mittens. Woolen mittens, and she could tell that it was the work of his deceased mother. On his desk was also an unfinished, shining, and bronze-colored helmet.

She almost cried when she saw her name half-carved inside the helm. But Vikings didn't cry.

_"Brown paper packages tied up with strings..."_

He had also apparently liked boxes, and string. Lots and lots of string. Silent sobs had stalled in her throat when she saw the birthday gifts the green-eyed boy had made for himself, when no one else other than his dad had given him birthday gifts. Perfectly packed little boxes, wrapped up in perfect ivory string, numbers scrawled on the box's surface to represent the turning of age... with self-made presents inside.

She remembered, once, however... when she was little and didn't quite fully ignore him yet, she had given him a little golden sunflower that she had picked in the wee hours of the morning. And, since she had nothing else to do with it, and the now eight-year-old boy's birthday was on that day...

...well, she gave the sunflower to Hiccup.

He had been beaming the rest of the day, clutching the little sunflower to his chest and smiling in a way that embarrassed her, but only just a little.

_"These are a few of my favorite things..."_

And as she hummed this little tune, suddenly making way into her head, she tried to think of the things that the boy, who had died not so long ago, would have liked... maybe...

_"Silk auburn hair and warmth at cold places..."_

And maybe some things that she liked, as well.

On that first flight with Toothless, she remembered how her hormones had gotten the best of her and she had simply rested her chin on his shoulder, trying not to sneeze and ruin the moment, because of his hair. And then she just shifted her position, and suddenly his hair wasn't bothering her anymore, instead making her blush a tad by its feel. And it felt... wonderful. Yeah.

She could also feel the warm blush that crawled up his neck as the night's cold bit at their skin... she didn't know about Hiccup's thoughts, but at that moment, she could have cared less about the airy wind and the freezing temperature.

_"Quieter meadows and sunset lit faces..."_

After he had lost his leg, and after the battle with the Green Death- which had taken place in only a matter of months ago- they had flown with Toothless to a meadow, where Hiccup had claimed was the site for one of his crash landings. _Their _crash landings, he had corrected when Toothless had glared at him, for it seemed like the dragon and the boy shared everything, even missing left limbs, although they did not share death. Then the Night Fury simply snorted in satisfaction before rolling in the grass like an excited kitten.

That sunset lit Hiccup's face up like a star.

_"Dragons that fly with the moon on their wings..."_

Moon on their wings, indeed. She remembered her first night flight with Esmeralda, her friend the Deadly Nadder, and Hiccup- no Toothless there that time, however much the ebony cat-equivalent dragon had protested. Hiccup had argued as well, but she knew that she could make anyone succumb to her wants; she just had a talent for that, or maybe she was just controlling...

It looked like Mani himself was playing a harp upon the Nadder's wings that night.

_"These are a few of my favorite things..."_

_Our_ favorite things... right?

_Brightest blue eyes by the gold upon ashes..._

Gold upon ashes... golden fire in a fireplace. She loved fire, even before the peace with dragons. Even if it always changed, it was beautiful, unpredictable, but also so very angry, very fierce... sometimes it needed water to bring it peace.

She had lost her water.

Wait a moment...

She had not sung that.

A boy had sung that.

She whipped her head around, but no one was there, only Toothless, who was sleeping next to her, nose wet with tears at her lullaby...

_Snowflakes that stay on her nose and eyelashes..._

She tried not to jump up in shock at the voice with no owner, looking around. But, even more strange than the voice's origins, the cloudless night produced snowflakes that slowly fell around her and rested on the places where the song had spoken about...

_Silver white winters that melt into springs..._

The snowflakes melted slowly, the water slowly inching down her cheeks... at least they weren't real tears... Vikings don't cry, Vikings don't cry, Vikings don't cry...

_These are a few of my favorite things..._

Even if Vikings never cried, anyone would cry once they realized who was singing the song.

The boy proclaimed dead three weeks ago.

Hiccup...

_When the rain falls..._

Rain. Was he up there, in Valhalla, singing this? For her? Toothless didn't seem to hear. The heaven's clouds were quickly gathering, shrouding the skies and slowly releasing thick, tear-like raindrops to the land below. Toothless was instantly awake, guiding her half-concious form onto his back and bounding into the forest as soon as she was secure.

Towards the village...

_When the truth stings..._

Hiccup was dead.

Get over it!

Get OVER it!

_When I'm feeling sad..._

She cursed him, cursed him with all of her heart for tearing everything she knew apart... and then mending back again, before ripping it into peices once more by him dieing on her and Toothless. She was sure that the Night Fury felt the same. It was _sorrow_, all right. She was feeling _sad_. And it was burning her alive.

Black crept at the edges of her vision, like hollow predators... lurking...

And then striking.

She felt herself collapse, heard Toothless's cry of worry. But she wasn't dead yet... what was that...

Bodies, bodies on an island she had been to before... an island she had seen before, however far away it was...

Her uncle... Stoick the Vast...

Wait... Stoick and Hiccup were on the same fishing trip... the same trip where Hiccup, and so many others, had died...

And there was Hiccup, lying there, mouth barely moving to finish his song.

_I simply remember my favorite things..._

Images flashed through her mind, memories that weren't her own... a heartily grinning man with a colossal beard and figure, Stoick... a smiling brunette woman with bright green eyes, Hiccup's mother... an ebony dragon with brilliant emerald-gold eyes, Toothless... a blond girl with a red headband and blazing blue eyes, herself... and then...

And then...

_And then... I don't feel so bad..._

And then... Astrid smiled, for the first time, in a very, very long time.

The black was gone. The village was in sight, lights lit on as the Vikings prepared for the night, Nadders leaping from hut to hut and waking up little children, much to many mothers' dismay.

But no one would be sleeping tonight.

Because...

Astrid pulled back Toothless's ear, just a little, and paused, although he continued running, although he continued galloping with her sitting on his back... then, she leaned toward his head... rested a cheek against his warming scales... and she whispered three words...

"Hiccup is alive."


	2. Shooting Stars

**Thanks for the reviews, guys. Might do one more chapter after this; depends on if you convince me, since I could easily finish by this chapter. I'm feeling a bit melancholy at the moment, mostly since I just took a bath. A good thing for writing a story with this kind of mood, I guess.**

**Please tell me if this confusing. It has many, many dividers.  
**

**Also. Airplanes by B.O.B. I only listen to that song for these three verses:**

**"Can we pretend that airplanes, in the night sky, are like **_**shooting stars**_**?**

**I can really use a wish right now,**

**Wish right now,**

**Wish right now..."**

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"Astrid, you know that there's no chance of him being alive."

"Astrid, the boy's dead an' yeh know it..."

"Astrid, don't let your heart get ahead of your mind. You were never one to let that happen, before..."

"Astrid, you were just hallucinating. That's impossible."

"Astrid, go back to bed. This is no reason to wake up the whole village."

_"Astrid, stop living in a dream."_

Fine. They didn't believe her. Maybe Fishlegs did, and there was that slim chance that Ruffnut did as well, but it wasn't enough. Three people couldn't carry so many people for so long a distance...

So the blond jumped onto Toothless's saddle, only hoping that she could trust herself to change the positions on the dragon's tail-fin without a cheat sheet. She had done this before... but she wasn't sure...

...how very uncharacteristic of her.

Toothless believed her, she knew that. The dragon had simply stopped in its tracks, then started running back to the village, as fast as possible, when she told of her vision... her vision of the bodies, lying on the large-pebbled ground...

Astrid pulled the cloak's hood over her head. The rain was still pouring, showering down, some drops still finding her face and leaking down to her chin, like tears...

So many tears, not shed...

Not _yet_ shed...

The three blankets that were under her cloak were still not enough to keep her from shivering.

They had been flying for an hour... where was she going? This was far from her usual logic. She never followed her heart over her head...

What was happening to her? Who was she becoming? Why was she letting one of her favorite things toy with her mind so much...?

Because she believed that what she saw was real?

Doubt...

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The skies were clearing... how long had they been flying? The morning sun peaked from over the horizon. Six hours, at least, and yet the Night Fury she rode on flew tirelessly. Toothless was obviously built for flights that lasted weeks, if bareback... but she was on him, with this saddle and these scarce food and drinking supplies.

No islands, not even the littlest strip of stone...

This was hopeless...

Then, why was she still flying on? Why was Toothless still flying on? Were they both treading on hollow, empty lies?

The rain stopped, and the clouds were gone, as if they were never there before.

Hours. More hours... the day was short, and it tipped to the afternoon. There was the first island, in so very long.

The dragon and the girl landed. Toothless hunted for fish, cooking some of his food neatly and offering it to Astrid.

Astrid tried not to cry.

...was she turning soft, now?

Damn you, Hiccup.

Damn you...

Where was she going? She was going north, and yet the fishing boats had departed to the south... even if there were no boat wrecks here... nothing to signify that anyone but themselves had been here recently... but something was telling her otherwise. At least, she thought that... she hoped...

Hope sucks.

They rested, sleeping fitfully, and waking seven hours later to fly again.

It was late evening. The stars were coming out.

It was so quiet.

Just the whistling of Toothless's wings.

Like an owl.

* * *

Wait... were those...

Bodies...? Bodies, floating on the sea...?

So many bodies...

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None were alive.

So many bodies. Bodies of dragons, bodies of Vikings. All of them... partially... eaten? But none of them were Hiccup.

_I'm sorry, Hiccup, I really am. But I'm about to give up._

Toothless raised his head to Valhalla and cried out in sorrow.

_I really am._

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Even if Astrid didn't want to go any farther, Toothless still flew farther north after inspecting the bodies. But Astrid wanted to go on. Both dragon and girl wanted to go on, forever and ever, over the edge of the world, into the blackness, living in darkness, with only nothing... until they found their boy. And if he was dead...

Revenge would be found on whatever had caused his death.

"I could really use a wish right now," Astrid sighed. Her voice was raspy from the salt of the sea, and from the lack of usage.

Toothless moaned sorrowfully in agreement, and it almost tore the tough Viking in half.

Hope.

Yeah, right.

Screw it all.

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It is sad... that this human girl, whom Hiccup loved as much as he loved his dragon... could not see as well as Toothless did at that moment.

Under the night sky... he saw an island.

Bodies, laying on the ground.

Hiccup's matted auburn hair.

Toothless cried out in joy.

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**

They flew down to the ground.

The first thing that Astrid saw was her dead uncle.

The second thing that Astrid saw was Stoick the Vast, breathing strongly yet shallowly in a coma.

The third thing Astrid saw was two narrowed paled green eyes, staring quietly at the sky, the owner breathing lightly, almost invisibly. Those eyes could have easily been two glowing emeralds, one large, black dot painted on each. Only closed... if only almost closed.

Astrid thought he was dead for a moment, before the boy blinked, and she noticed the shallow rising of his chest.

Astrid fell off of Toothless's back and onto the ground with a thud. Stupid dragon. The fearsome, bloodthirsty Night Fury whined like a kicked puppy in the rain, somehow simulating half of Astrid's current emotions by that sound.

"Buddy..." The boy's hand barely lifted off the ground, just enough to be placed on the ebony dragon's muzzle. Before it could slip back to his body, Toothless rested his head on his best friend's chest, laying next to his right side. "How..."

"Hiccup..." Astrid stumbled next to the boy, shivering from the freezing cold. "How..."

"Astrid...?" Hiccup asked, squinted. Oh, dear gods...

Alive.

It was true.

He was alive.

Alive...?

But this time, no hope... no hope? But... why? She found Hiccup, everything was going to be fine now... but...

Too much had happened for hope.

"Sea serpent... wrecked the ships... ate half of us... the rest washed up here, and we had two boats' worth of supplies... we ran out of supplies two days ago," Hiccup whispered. "I think most of died of starvation and dehydration two days ago... I don't know... how I can speak..."

"Astrid... is my dad alive?"

The girl nearly collapsed as she came to her feet, walking over to Stoick on heavy feet. He was still breathing deeply, as if he had just fallen to his coma, and Astrid wrapped a blanket around him.

He looked so strong... even in his sleep... so unlike Hiccup...

She went back to Hiccup, laying her head next to him, Toothless on his right side and herself on his left. She took the remaining two blankets and tucked them around the boy, now only having her cloak to protect her from the bitter cold. Hiccup was still shivering violently...

Astrid shoved her face into his hair and took him in her arms.

Hiccup stopped shivering.

It didn't matter. Not this uncharacteristic act of hers, not the stars flying so far away, not the darkened, swallowing night sky, not the lullaby that rolled in her mind.

"He's alive," she murmured, face still buried in his hair.

She felt him untucking the blankets on her side of him and draping it over her own body.

She just offered her warmth.

Toothless did, too.

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**

She had force-fed him, and made him drink water, but it still didn't make him warmer.

He could not return home alive. There wasn't enough food or water for him to get back alive, and even if they did... they had no medicine.

It seemed that only Toothless's body heat, and her own, were the only things keeping him warm.

The only things keeping him alive.

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**

They could have been there for seconds.

Minutes.

Hours.

Days.

Weeks, months, years, decades, millennium, eternally.

But the night never left, and Astrid lay there, stargazing with the dragon and the boy.

Pretending that these _weren't_ the boy's last moments. That he _would_ wake up tomorrow morning. That he _would_ open his eyes after fighting the night... only to fight yet another night in the later hours to come.

And lose.

Astrid wanted to kick it. Astrid wanted to shove it, to slice it with her axe, to bury her fists into death, into Hel's face... even if it wasn't possible.

Hiccup was going to lose, and the three of them knew it.

Hope. Such a merciless, despicable thing. Astrid vowed never to hope for something, anything, ever again.

Never again.

Until.

Until...?

* * *

Until Hiccup whispered,

"Astrid, look..."

Astrid looked, but saw nothing.

"I see... shooting stars..."

Astrid looked, but saw everything.

Ruffnut and Tuffnut and Fishlegs and Snotlout, all on their dragons, with fifty dragons packed with food and drinks and medicine and blankets and, _oh Odin_, all of these things upon their backs, all of them following the four teens' lead...

...all of them fit for taking fifty Vikings home.

_Hope._


End file.
